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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23770279">Hit and Run</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenJava/pseuds/GreenJava'>GreenJava</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikitaHawkeye/pseuds/NikitaHawkeye'>NikitaHawkeye</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Trese (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Strong sexual themes, mention of Sinag/Iglap, sequel to Ride Home</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:09:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,845</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23770279</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenJava/pseuds/GreenJava, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikitaHawkeye/pseuds/NikitaHawkeye</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It began as an unexpected drunken escapade one night, when Alexandra Trese had too much ale in her system and too little regard for possible consequences the following day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maliksi/Alexandra Trese</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hit and Run</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It began as an unexpected drunken escapade one night, when Alexandra Trese had too much ale in her system and too little regard for possible consequences the following day. Too much blood in her hands too, or so she believed when she left the crime scene with apparent guilt on her face. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "You're not the one who killed these people." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "Yes, but I could have prevented it." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Looking back, Maliksi realized that it was not an invitation to tail her the whole night, but there were no outright protests from her, either. It was not like there was anywhere else to go; they were far from home, and it was way too late to gallivant around. The Kambal were nowhere to be seen, too, probably off to God knows where.</p><p> </p><p>Alexandra settled for a dingy bar not far from where they were holed up. It was a far cry from her Diabolical, but Maliksi could tell she didn't care at the moment. She was down to her fourth bottle when Maliksi finally gathered the courage to speak. </p><p> </p><p>"You can't save everyone."</p><p> </p><p>The glare she threw him should have silenced him, but Maliksi was on his second bottle of Red Horse, and is therefore currently too dumb and too ballsy for his own good.</p><p> </p><p>"I know, I know," he raised his hands in mock surrender, "it's your job, yada, yada, but you're not a seer and some things are bound to be overlooked by your calculations, like tonight's incident, so—"</p><p> </p><p>Maliksi didn't finish the thought because Alexandra Trese was suddenly all over him, her mouth angrily kissing the daylights out of him, her hands roughly tugging at his loose ponytail and frying the last brain cells in his head.</p><p> </p><p>How they managed to go back to their hotel room in a mass tangle of limbs, he didn't know. </p><p> </p><p>The door swung open violently as the pair crashed into their room. Cards and keys littered the ground while their lips did one thing and their hands did another, leaving the door to close on its own with a click. </p><p> </p><p>Maliksi, the less buzzed of the two, tried so hard to navigate them without hitting the walls, all the while hungrily gripping at her cloak. Alexandra’s less dominant hand never left the back of his neck, pulling him ever so passionately as they taste each deep kiss. </p><p> </p><p>Both paused for a second to breathe. Maliksi stared straight at Alexandra. There was a lingering hesitation that hovered around him, but it left as soon as he noticed her hand. Without breaking eye contact, Alexandra answered his stare by tracing the lining of her cloak, expertly finding her way to each button to free it, save one. </p><p> </p><p>For the first time in his long life, Maliksi questioned himself if this was the right thing to do, given their state of inebriation and her vulnerability. All these thoughts banished when she slipped her cloak off, revealing her slender shoulders in a very erotic light he'd never seen before.</p><p> </p><p>She then turned her back to him and let the Cloak of Takipsilim hang from her hips.The tikbalang slowly witnessed her silhouette against the yellow light as she raised her arms and pulled her top off. It fell to the ground in a soft bundle while she pulled her cloak back up, turning to face him again. Maliksi’s breath grew shallow with each step she took towards him. His eyes went down from her face, gliding down to her neck, the small beads of sweat on her exposed chest, breasts covered only by the cloak. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Alexandra Trese coming undone, for his eyes only. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She kicked her boots off, slid her pants down and kept walking. Alexandra stopped two inches from his face with only her cloak, her black lace underwear, and one word.</p><p> </p><p>“Rodeo.”</p><p> </p><p>Maliksi did not need to be told twice.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>She had a faraway look in her eyes that said "this is the last time" everytime it happened, but she had the same look the last time, too, and it happened way too often that "last time" became a "past time." </p><p> </p><p>Maliksi would have been ecstatic, too, if she didn't act like nothing happened after. When they're done, she would wordlessly put her clothes back on without even sparing him a glance. Outside the four corners of the hotel room, she was Alexandra Trese, child of destiny, and he was just Maliksi, bar patron and sometimes official ally. No acknowledgment of their nocturnal activities, not even lingering touches or heated gazes.</p><p> </p><p>He chuckled at the irony: when have the tables turned on him? Years ago, he would have preferred this set-up. </p><p> </p><p><em> What made her different? </em> </p><p> </p><p>He watched as she single-handedly shoved an <em> aswang </em>against the wall, her voice dripping with venom as she prodded the creature with one of her brand new toys: a vanishing dagger made from Datu Runggan's scales. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm not gonna ask you again."</p><p> </p><p>The creature whimpered pathetically, then weakly extended his finger to a vague direction. Alexandra dropped the aswang to the ground, her temper growing evidently shorter as the seconds ticked by. She was very calm and showed very little emotion, very unlike the woman who pulled his hair from his scalp and rasped his name out in the throes of passion the previous night. It was almost as if they were two different people.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What a woman. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>When she impassively made eye contact with him then nodded to the direction of his car without looking back, Maliksi knew exactly how the sixth child of the sixth child managed to wrap him around her pretty little finger. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Weeks into the case passed, and a habit started forming between the two. By day, they were the Mandirigmang Babaylan and the Armanaz Stallion. When the hotel room door closed at night, their titles meant nothing as their bodies danced on the bed. When she gasps for more and demands a faster pace, there is no trace of the woman who can level a higante with her stare and neutralize a horde of manananggals in a heartbeat. She was only Alex, in a raspy, pleading whisper, especially when he was squirming and helpless under her.</p><p> </p><p>Every single night, however, Alexandra curled to the edge afterwards, coldly shifting whatever body part Maliksi tried to touch. This drew an unspoken line, always accompanied by eerie silence that lasted until the next day.</p><p> </p><p>Maliksi never pushed his luck. Alexandra Trese had assigned him a role in her life. She has been heard, loud and clear. </p><p> </p><p>After all, beggars can't be choosers.</p><p> </p><p>This is what he says to himself every single time, whenever he finds himself parked in front of her bar again, ready to take her to wherever she needed to be at the moment.</p><p> </p><p>Like now.</p><p> </p><p>“Alexandra.”</p><p> </p><p>The sixth child opened her eyes to his voice. The sunset met her gaze, one cordoned off at either side by phone and power lines, and the brightness must have momentarily made her squint. Maliksi’s eyes went back to the road, as she reminded him time and again to do so. Still, he felt his passenger shudder from where she was sleeping. He reached out with his right hand by instinct, sighing as it was met with a light slap.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay, Alex. You’re safe.”</p><p> </p><p>The voice lost itself in the reverb as the poorly lit hotel room closed in on her. She shuffled in the sheets, gathering the last of her strength to fight the one enemy she can never defeat; the enemy who visited her from a place in the past to continue its campaign of pulling at her spirit, one night at a time.</p><p> </p><p>All these, concealed from Maliksi, who was slumbering only a few centimeters away.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not safe here! Get out! Run!”</p><p> </p><p>Maliksi shot up from his side of the bed to see Alexandra toss and turn in hers, her tone terrified and hurried.</p><p> </p><p>“Who are you talking to? Alex!”</p><p> </p><p>Alexandra didn’t listen to him. Unbeknownst to Maliksi, she was busy yanking at the thick roots growing around her, braving to step off and offer her hand, desperately pleading to time for its momentary allegiance.</p><p> </p><p>The tree stood silent.</p><p> </p><p>Alexandra was pulled into the darkness, her defiance reduced to a shout wrapped in terror and seething hate—hate for the test, hate for her destiny that brought her to it, hate for herself. </p><p> </p><p>Maliksi, however, could only hear her moans of pain and watch her helplessly thrash at nothing.</p><p> </p><p>She jolted up from the bed. Maliksi arched his back, startled but relieved. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he focused on her face, and was met with a look he never saw in her before: agony. She was gulping in breath after breath, her tank top sticking to her through islands of sweat against the black cloth.</p><p> </p><p>“Alex…" Maliksi softly started, “…are you…”</p><p> </p><p>The stallion didn’t allow himself to finish. The wind was slightly knocked off him as he pulled Alexandra Trese to a tight embrace. He didn’t know what came over him. Part of him was expecting the same resistance she exerted, her default reply to his attempt to physically connect beyond their primal desire. That night, she needed her something more. The seconds that he expected to be her fight to escape his embrace were still, tranquil.</p><p> </p><p>Looking down, he witnessed the great Mandirigmang Babaylan silently crying, gritting her teeth in anger.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Alexandra whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she continued in a slow but depressed repetition, paused by sobs and sniffles. Maliksi was still confused, mad at being helpless to help her. He steeled himself to do the one thing he can do.</p><p> </p><p>The tikbalang never let her go. Until she dozed off chanting, he never let her go.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>"Your brother took my sister to Enchanted Kingdom."</p><p> </p><p>Maliksi stopped tracing the outline of her bare hips with his fingers then hummed in response. Months into this endeavor, he still made very little progress in establishing some semblance of a relationship with her, save perhaps the few minutes in the morning when she would let him hold her a little longer or plant a few kisses on her neck and back. </p><p> </p><p>The little incident a few nights ago was never spoken of again, but he noticed that she resisted his affectionate attempts less than before. A small bud of hope blossomed in his chest, and thought that maybe… maybe this is progress? He wasn't sure, but he never brought it up, in fear of her recoiling at the very thought. She lets him linger, and he would never let his chances slip just because he decided to be a hopeless romantic at the wrong time.</p><p> </p><p>Today was one of those rare chances, he realized as he glanced at the clock on the wall. It's a little later than how she usually starts her day, and Maliksi reminds himself, with his fingers on her naked form and his nose buried in her hair, that beggars can't be choosers. </p><p> </p><p>He felt her shuffle, then found himself face to face with a mildly irate Alexandra Trese. "What?"</p><p> </p><p>"You're awfully calm about this."</p><p> </p><p>He thought of Iglap, his older brother, dubbed as the antithesis to his black sheep (horse?) existence. He tried recalling any instances when his brother showed any interest in the elder Trese twin, but came up empty. A bit unexpected, but not really surprising that Iglap would go for the milder sister, given his good boy image. </p><p> </p><p>What he can imagine, though, is his father, the great Señor Armanaz, having a mild aneurysm at the thought of both of his sons falling for the Trese siblings, of all creatures. He sniggered at the thought. </p><p> </p><p>"What's so funny?"</p><p> </p><p>He looked at her face again, and noticed that she has a small scar on her temple that deepens when she frowns. "Nothing," he started, "but I know Iglap. He wouldn't cause any harm to your sister."</p><p> </p><p>Maliksi watched as Alexandra slowly rose up from the queen-sized bed, her naked form illuminated by strips of sunlight that managed to creep through the cracks of the window. He greedily drank the view in, then briefly wondered if anyone else had the opportunity to do the same. He found that he didn't care.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not sure," she murmured, her hands ransacking the pile of clothes that lay discarded on the floor, "if I should teach him a lesson or if I should commend his audacity."  </p><p> </p><p>"You know, they're technically older than us." </p><p> </p><p>A glare. "You know what I mean, Maliksi."</p><p> </p><p>He did. Sinag took her human form about two months ago, and even if the twins have the same age, he didn't think Sinag learned the complications of attraction and desire in her dagger form. Still… "I know what you mean, Alex. My point is that they weren't the ones who spent the night in a three-star hotel. Ow." </p><p> </p><p>Maliksi winced as his shirt and something else hit his face. He picked it up to see that his wallet was in there, too. Ow, indeed. </p><p> </p><p>"I've seen you and your cousins with five different women in one night. You can't blame me if a carnival date does not exactly convince me of your brother's pure intentions."</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, you jumped me in a bar called Maligamgam, sister."</p><p> </p><p>His pair of old Levi's came flying next, but this time, Maliksi was quick to catch it mid-air. Maliksi turned just in time to see her wrapping herself in a towel while heading for the bathroom. He reached out to grab her hand. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey," he tugged on her arm so she would face him. "Alex, wait."</p><p> </p><p>She gave him a frosty glare in turn, her raised eyebrow indicating her impatience. </p><p> </p><p>"Listen… I admit that Iglap is not a saint. Both of us have done questionable things, especially in our youth, that we both regret." Alex scoffed and turned, but Maliksi held her hand and gaze firmer. "I know words mean nothing to you, but I've seen Iglap break a man's bone in three different places because said man yelled at an old lady in the market."</p><p> </p><p>Alexandra said nothing, and Maliksi took this as a cue to continue. "Iglap will never hurt Sinag, be it a simple date involving flying carpets and roller coasters, or an unusual courting ritual leading to an actual… relationship."</p><p> </p><p>Maliksi trailed off, half-whispering the last words before he caught himself. Somewhere in his narration, his wishful thinking oozed out shamefully.</p><p> </p><p>Something in his delivery must have made Alex realize the same thing, too, as the light of understanding slowly dawned in her eyes. She blinked and looked in the opposite direction, uneasiness written all over her face. She pulled away, then slowly lowered herself on the other edge of the bed. </p><p> </p><p>"Maliksi," Alex began carefully, as if looking for the right words to use, "I know you have expectations." </p><p> </p><p>Maliksi opened his mouth in retort, but Alexandra raised a hand in his direction, effectively silencing him. "It might be too assumptive of me, but I'm not…" She paused, then quickly gasped for air. "I'm not fit to be emotionally entangled with anyone."</p><p> </p><p>Maliksi looked at her face, and noticed that it didn't quite have the usual impassive facade that she must have perfected over the years. There was uncertainty and something else (guilt?) lurking in her eyes, one that he can't pinpoint exactly what. The irony was not lost on him; he must have given the same speech to different girls over the past decades. To be on the receiving end of it felt strangely baffling.</p><p> </p><p>Especially now, when he has not touched any other being for months. </p><p> </p><p>His silence must have been unsettling that Alexandra chose to go straight to the point instead. "I can't commit."</p><p> </p><p>Maliksi sighed, then ungracefully plopped back down on his side of the bed. He looked up at her face again, then after a moment, he spoke.</p><p> </p><p>"I'll take it."</p><p> </p><p>Alexandra looked at him like he grew two horns on his head. "What?"</p><p> </p><p>"I'll take it. I'll take whatever you can give me. Days, hours, minutes. I'll take it." </p><p> </p><p>Maliksi has never been this desperate. He was on a roll now. "You're the savior of the city and I'm a creature of mythology. We're way past normal at this point. I'm not asking to hold your hand and kiss you in public while we frolic around a park, Alexandra. If a few hours in a hotel room is all you can give me, I'd take it."</p><p> </p><p>Alexandra sat very still on the edge of the bed, the imperceptible look still evident on her face. Finally, she reached for the tucked end of the towel on her chest and let it fall on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Maliksi gaped on her undressed form, confusion written all over his face. "Wait… what?"</p><p> </p><p>Alexandra climbed on top of him. "Diabolical doesn't open until 4pm," she glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at him,  "I have a few more hours to spare."</p><p> </p><p>He'll take it.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> end. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For those who wanted a cute little sequel to Ride Home, I am so sorry to disappoint. Maliksi and Alexandra, unlike their siblings, are two very difficult beings, and thus, simply refused to be written in a happy, fancy setting. </p><p>Major props to my co-author, GreenJava, for beautifully writing the most fragile scenes these two have shared. You are waaaay more talented than you give yourself credit for.</p><p>Also many thanks to the Daisy Siete Fans Club for the unwavering support, and The Gagoers for fuelling my Trese passion (especially Grach and Gale, who created beautiful art works out of this piece!!! You are very talented beautiful beings and I do not deserve you)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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